


moonlight and love songs

by semisemi (artifice)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Casablanca References, Communication, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Married Couple, Married Life, Piano, SemiShira - Freeform, Slow Dancing, So much kissing, The Apartment References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22385338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artifice/pseuds/semisemi
Summary: Kenjirou wouldn’t be caught dead voicing it aloud, but he loves how quietly intimate they can be.or: the boys slowdance in the living room and talk about life.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 115





	moonlight and love songs

**Author's Note:**

> chapter 379/380 hit different... anyway. i loved the idea of a more mature relationship with semishira trying their best. they're in their late 30s here.
> 
> rea kindly (read: judgingly) informed me that i've been pronouncing casablanca wrong my whole life, so this one's for you, babe. i'll learn one day. 
> 
> this is also for tay, who is an absolute goddess of shiratorizawa. we do stan.

**_You must remember this  
A kiss is just a kiss  
A sigh is just a sigh  
The fundamental things apply  
As time goes by..._ **

* * *

“Play it again, Sam,” Kenjirou says, leaning against the side of their grand piano. He had gotten as far as his keys in the lock before he heard the familiar tune reverberate faintly through the door, and he had slipped in as carefully as possible, mindful of his footsteps and the rustling of his coat.

“You know that was never actually said in the movie, right?”

The doctor only smiles serenely.

It’s a rare, quiet evening after a long two days of working at the hospital, and Kenjirou is exhausted, having pulled an all-nighter to get tests done. Fortunately, that means he can take the night off to come home for dinner (and, of course, spend quality time with Eita.)

His husband mirrors his smile— and though his laughter lines and crow’s feet have creased in faint wrinkles with age, and his stubble may be laced with natural gray, he still grins like he’s young and stupidly in love. It makes Kenjirou want to melt, sixteen years of marriage and a near-lifetime of friendship later.

“Didn’t expect you home for another few hours,” Eita says while his fingers continue to press out the melancholy tune. “Work was okay?”

Kenjirou leans more against the piano, careful to put his elbow on the underside of the lid, which is folded back to let Eita access the music rack. He props his chin on his hand and hums noncommittally.

“Solved another difficult case, but…” he trails off.

Eita gives him a stern, reprimanding look, though the effect is lessened by the clear affection in his eyes. “Changing the world, one patient at a time,” he says, “you’re doing so much for the community already.”

Throughout the years, Kenjirou thinks, they’ve mellowed out quite a bit. They rehash the same arguments (regarding the world’s potential to change, ethics, politics, etc.) but gone are the days of harsh, bitter fallouts and furious make-up sex. Still, age doesn’t stop a man from dreaming, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop wanting to transform the world—make his mark, so to speak.

“I know,” he responds softly instead. “Can’t help thinking, though.”

Eita pauses on a seventh chord, then lifts his hands, letting the unresolved frequencies hang still in the air.

“We’ve talked about this a bit, but I suppose it doesn’t hurt to ask again"— he leans forward until his arms cross lightly on the fallboard— “are you really satisfied with your job?”

The last time he asked this, it was late one weeknight (some time ago— days and weeks seem to blur with every passing hour), and Kenjirou had just curled up next to Eita, ready to pass out at a moment’s notice. The other man had murmured into his ear, just as he was drifting off: _are you happy?_

A question which had subsequently led to a deep, half-whispered discussion wherein Kenjirou repeatedly assured his husband that he was satisfied with where he was. They had fallen asleep entwined together, heads still tilted toward the other, and in the morning, they had woken up impossibly closer.

“…your life?” Eita continues.

Kenjirou pushes gently from the piano with his hip and tugs the pianist up to stand in front of him, slightly backing away into open space to avoid knocking their knees painfully.

“I love you,” he says, holding Eita’s hands in his— and the vow still makes his nerves flutter. “I said it before, but I'll say it again: even though I come home late six out of seven days of the week, I love working diagnostics. _And_ I’ve long-since accepted that you’ve got your secrets to keep.”

Eita rubs slow circles on the back of Kenjirou’s hands. His eyebrows are still furrowed slightly in thought. “What would you change? If you could, of course.”

The brunet hums again. Though it'd be a lie to say that he's never complained about his current lifestyle, he hasn't secretly harboured dreams of a radically different life. He’s genuinely content with where he is, and he knows Eita is comfortable, even with his tendency to think the worst of situations. Does the lack of change mean they’re stagnating as a couple? Are they not progressing, even if this line of questioning means that they’re still trying? Frowning, Kenjirou attempts to think of ways Eita could be happier; ultimately, however, it almost all boils down to one thing.

“I’d like to spend more time with you. Feels like we haven’t had a proper night to ourselves for ages.”

It seems like the right thing to say— at that, Eita lets out a small huff of laughter. “Too true.”

They stay like that for a bit, looking down at their intertwined hands, each lost in contemplation. Then, Eita lets go to pull Kenjirou in by the waist, and languidly, Kenjirou slides his arms loosely around his neck.

(Kenjirou wouldn’t be caught dead voicing it aloud, but he loves how quietly intimate they can be.)

“You gonna kiss me now?” he whispers, lips brushing against Eita’s. Moments later, Eita is lightly nipping at his lower lip, and they share a series of lazy kisses that have Kenjirou feeling warm, relaxed, and above all, _loved_. When they eventually pull back, Eita sways them lightly, rocking from side to side in silence.

“And when two lovers woo,” Eita sings under his breath after a long beat of quiet, “they still say, ’I love you’; on that, you can rely…”

Kenjirou lets his head fall to his husband’s shoulder as he finishes the verse without singing. “No matter what the future brings as time goes by…”

Eita doesn’t seem to mind— they slowly rotate on the spot to the sound of his humming. At one point, Kenjirou thinks he hears the theme from _The Apartment_ , but the details scatter when Eita lightly prompts his head up and fits their lips together again.

“’Here’s looking at you, kid,’” Kenjirou quotes when they draw back for air.

Eita only snorts fondly. “And here's looking at you.”

They spend another infinity like that, each admiring the other. If they could, they’d continue—but the sudden, rhythmic buzzing of Eita’s phone by the piano interrupts them. He hastily steps away and reaches for it, a shadow of panic flitting briefly across his eyes before relief sinks in.

"Delivery is downstairs. I'll be back in a few," he quickly presses another kiss to Kenjirou's lips, then sweeps out the door without bothering to grab his jacket. Kenjirou shakes his head in exasperation, but he heads to the kitchen to set their small table for two.

_Are you happy?_ Eita had asked.

Happiness isn’t an end-goal, he’s starting to think. Happiness is being together, even with the ups and downs of their relationship. Happiness is knowing that they’re still fighting for each other, that they’ll _continue_ to fight for each other, even when life wants to keep them apart. Happiness is coming home after 34 hours spent in a walk-in clinic trying to change the world.

_This_ , he nods in satisfaction, clearing their mail from the surface, _this is happiness_.

* * *

**_The world will always welcome lovers  
As time goes by…_ **

**Author's Note:**

> it's like 2:30 am so i'm [peace sign noises] out! 
> 
> talk to me on [tumblr!](https://rtifice.tumblr.com/)


End file.
